


A Cry in the Night

by HillwoodDailies



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HillwoodDailies/pseuds/HillwoodDailies
Summary: An Arnold x Helga one-shot through the eyes of their fathers. Over a series of time jumps. It’s complicated… Helga was born in March and Arnold was in October, so Arnold is older than Helga. If Helga is, in fact, younger than Arnold, could Arnold hear baby Helga’s cries from San Lorenzo? Shortaki Week Prompt - Day 6 – Time Travel.
Relationships: Helga Pataki & Arnold Shortman, Helga Pataki/Arnold Shortman
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	A Cry in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ladies and gents and welcome to my first published fanfiction!  
> I'm Crystal from the Hey Arnold! blog The Hillwood Dailies on Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram!
> 
> Shout out to melfiarts on Tumblr for the wonderful prompt that inspired me.  
> I made this so it incorporates scenes from The Journal and a deleted concept from The Jungle Movie from Craig Bartlett himself.  
> Happy Shortaki Week!!!
> 
> Beta tested by the wonderful shortmania, or suprsingr, on Tumblr. Be sure to read her fan fic "Life with the Shortmans".  
> Warnings: None  
> Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. Just had an idea. That is all…  
> 

The world was quiet. Sounds were all at once hushed as a strong wind rustled through the trees that crisp autumn night.  
“AAARRRRRRNNOOOOOLLLDDD!!!”  
“Gerald, did you hear something just now?”

* * *

**Hillwood, Washington**  
**March 27 th: 1:05 a.m.**

_  
  


Big Bob Pataki rushed like a bullet through the hall right behind a stretcher carrying his pregnant wife. This night, like on many others, was supposed to be spent hearing his assistant manager who held the other line of his mobile phone. He could hear his wife Miriam’s cries and heavy breathing as the wheels creaked and spun out of control across the newly waxed hospital tile, but those noises were overshadowed by the constant beeping coming from the clip on the outside of his pants. He had the hand of a ten-year-old blonde girl that toted a sleepy smile, but was giggling, babbling, and skipping behind her father, knowing the events that would perspire this late in the night. Big Bob just wanted the whole world to just shut up, so he hung up his phone.  
“Come on! How long does it take to get to the bleeping delivery room?! Is it in China?!”  
“We’re going as fast as we can, Mr. Pataki.” Said one of the women who surrounded the stretcher (to this day Big Bob still doesn’t care which woman spoke to him). She resumed trying to teach a screaming Miriam how to breathe more steadily.  
“Good, because we aren’t paying ya for just dragging my wife around while another Pataki is being gifted to the world. Besides, I need to get out of here as soon as possible to set up for the new spring break sale and get this little champion, Olga Pataki, back to bed.”  
_He was the luckiest man in the world.  
_ “Yes, we wouldn’t want to keep _the world’s gift_ waiting any longer.” one nurse said with a sarcastic roll of the eyes. The other women started to share muffled laughter.  
“Hey, what’s _that_ supposed to mean?!”  
“We’re here!”  
They suddenly took an abrupt turn to the left and ran past the nursery to the next door on the right: a bright delivery room. Big Bob stopped and put Olga on the bench that was placed outside the door.  
“Oh Daddy, is mommy gonna be alright? Is my baby sister here?”  
“Soon pumpkin, it just takes a little more time.” At that moment in time, Miriam, from the other room, started to scream. Bob rushed into the room and shouted in a loud voice. “Criminy Miriam tough it out! You’ve done this before haven’t ya?”  
“AAAAAHHHHH! OH, I’m doing the best I can B!”  
“Well do better! We don’t have all day Miriam!”  
When the doctor came in with a loud thud of a door hitting the wall, Bob threw his sigh of anger and relief in his face. “Ugh. Finally!”  
“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Pataki. How long has she been?” The doctor says with a snap of his rubber gloves.  
“She’s eight centimeters dilated, and it’s been a few hours now, but contractions are two minutes apart and she is fixing to crown.” The nurse answered.  
“Well it’s almost time. Don’t worry Mr. and Mrs. Pataki, we’ll be done here soon enough.”  
Big Bob watched Miriam breathe heavily and blow in and out and his beeper starts to blare out a sound that makes him squirm.  
“Okay Miriam are you ready?” the doctor asked. Miriam nodded ferociously. “Alright, one, two, three…Push!”  
“Wait! Oh, I can’t, I CAN’T!”  
“Yes, you can Miriam, you’ve already done this before! What are you waiting for?” Big Bob said through his teeth.  
With a nervous look to Big Bob and the heaving woman in front of him, the doctor spoke to concur. “Yes, you can Miriam. Just relax, breathe, and we just have to take our time.”  
“But not too much time, right Miriam?”  
She began to shake in the bed and grunted out a devastating retch.  
“Looks like you’re ready to go. Give me a nice, big push.”  
She understood and continued to moan and scream as Big Bob’s mobile phone rang and rang. He swung it up in one angry motion from his pocket to his face.  
“Criminy, Nick if you don’t stop blowing up the phone at one o’clock every dang morning I am gonna- “  
“AAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!” Miriam screamed  
“Push Mrs. Pataki, push!” the doctor led.  
“Go on and put your back into it!” Big Bob followed.  
“I’m trying! AGGGHHHHHHGGGHHHHAAA!”  
“I wasn’t talking to you Miriam!” Big Bob grunted as he hung up the phone and motioned to the door and opened it to see Olga on the bench outside. Bob gave a reverent smile to his daughter and closed the door behind him.  
Olga looked at him with big eyes and a sniffling nose with tears about to fall. “Is Mommy okay?”  
A little touched, Big Bob spoke with an unusually soft voice. “Of course, she is baby girl. Your sister will be coming soon.” He patted her on the back and Olga snuggled up close as the shouts grew louder and louder.  
As Miriam let out a final blood curdling scream, Olga jumped from her spot and ran to the door and yelled out to her mother. Big Bob tried to grab her hand and stop her from entering the room.  
Olga beheld the sight of her newborn sister.  
Big Bob was close behind.  
There was a cry in the night.

* * *

**San Lorenzo, Central America**  
**March 27 th: 1:15 a.m.**

_  
  


Miles Shortman suddenly sat up in his bed as he woke from a deep sleep by a loud shriek from his six-month-old son coming from the crib in his hut. He looked around for a moment, puzzled, and the sleep from his eyes were no more. He was barely aware through his sleep deprived eyes that his wife sat up in the bed alongside him, obviously tired for the exact reason he was.  
_A son. My son.  
_ It was shocking really. Miles Shortman in his amount of time on this world, a short 30-something years, never thought he could have everything he had ever wanted when looking up towards the skylight of his boyhood room. That in his own short existence he would be in another country doing his dream job and sharing his life with a woman that not only loved and tolerated him, but would have a son so beautiful, stopping to cry in his son’s presence seemed to be a requirement by the universe instead of an emotional reaction within him.  
_He was the luckiest man in the world.  
_ The slopes of San Lorenzo and all its majestic heights could never compare to how proud he was, of his wife, of his son, and the work done to preserve the Green Eyes from the dreaded sleeping sickness that had ailed them. It finally felt like it had all meant something. The pride in his gallant heart rose to the challenge as his son wailed from a room away. The current situation only added one woe to a long, dangerous list.  
That list was, because of his son, only a few days old.  
Little Arnold was always mostly quiet, hardly had no temper, and laughed almost constantly. Arnold was surprisingly old enough to crawl and there had been many scrapes that made the rest of the outside world Miles and Stella called home safe and manageable, was now hard to control and too much. Arnold’s encounter with a snake that day was the final straw, but doubt festered inside Miles. And if he felt scared, then the intensely self-aware Stella would not be far behind him.  
He thought of this when they looked at each other, both upright in the bed. As the sound of Arnold’s cries grew louder, the more they widened their eyes from awareness. A shared look toward the door, then towards each other with a subtle nod, and they bolted towards their howling baby.  
Arnold’s demeanor was the first clue to Miles that something was wrong. Previous nights when Arnold was hungry he would whimper, never wail. When he wanted something, he would be standing up to the bars of the crib, grabbing one in each hand, but now he was red-faced while lying down and screaming to whichever angel or god chose to hear him.  
Stella came to him first.  
“Hey, Arnold. Are you okay, honey?” she cooed.  
Arnold screamed louder.  
“It’s okay now Arnold. Momma’s got ya.” Stella placed hand under each arm of her crying child and then cradled him over an arm. Miles came behind and rested his hand on her shoulder and kept all attention on his son. Arnold was inconsolable while Stella softly bounced him.  
Miles could only wonder what would make a child so quiet and responsive as his little boy to become a one-track-minded white-hot ball of frustration.

* * *

The first thing in all the world we do is shout. To the void, to our parents, or to whoever would hear. In an instant with a smack and a shot in the dark do we stop, from softness or from shock. Neither of these would silence these two souls unless they themselves had made them stop by their own accord.

And it did.

_  
  


“What is this new little girl’s name?”  
The father was pulled into the room by a tiny hand as he shouted his firstborn’s name.  
An exasperated and tired voice of the mother responded. “No, it is Helga. Helga Geraldine Pataki.”  
The doctor swaddled the girl in his arms. Her baby blues stood out to him the most.  
And that all was still.

_  
  


_The boy next_ , the wind seemed to whisper. And his silence replied.

_  
  


“That was weird.” The woman’s mouth stood agape as the cries that jolted her and her husband awake were no more. The man’s eyes filled up with tears again, like clockwork. 

_  
  


The baby that had cried to all of heaven and earth with eyes wretched, had glanced up with his wandering bright eyes, sniffled once, and stopped his weeping in the time before the last of his blue tears from his green, marshy eyes splashed down on the floor.

* * *

**A City Park in Hillwood, Washington**  
**Six Months Later**  
**September 7 th 1:05pm**

_  
  


Kids. All those kids.

Big Bob stood at the swing set in the northeastern most corner of the park, listening to the new mother before him absentmindedly. He turned his head to the left and couldn’t imagine the strain that the nurse at P.S. 118 could be under. He had known her for a while, mostly due to his Olga and the Lloyds from the country club.

_What was her name? Mrs. Sally? Shelly? Shelley? Shelldon?_

_Whatever._

Her appearance at the park with the very rich snobs that sat on the bench behind her blissfully unaware of their only child made him smirk. Ignorant idiots, all of them. Shelly or whoever she was, proved that she was exactly like him as a parent. Experience makes you better. Bob smiled to himself.

The prowess, the gentleness, the attention! If she were a product he would smack her with a seal of approval so large and so pronounced that the city could be struck blind in awe.

“Yes, my little Phoebe is one of the smartest little thangs I have ever seen! Why if I didn’t know any better I bet by the time she hits preschool she’ll be smarter than me!” said Reba.

“What? Oh yeah?” he meant to say it with more meaning, but the statement became more passive with the air. The sounds of children and their nutjob parents were a hearty distraction from the conversation and from his blonde daughter sneakily sucking stolen milk from little Phoebe’s baby bottle. Does he notice? Of course, he doesn’t. He never does and Reba notices. It is a common occurrence. His favorite subject would be brought up from the depths of Reba’s subconscious. Reba sighs.

“So, how is Olga doing?”

He stands at attention eyes wide and a beaming smile forms on his face as he continues the conversation with great vigor with a resounding, “Absolutely perfect! Could not be any better even if I could change it, Reba! Why just the other day…”

* * *

**Adjacent to the City Park gates**  
**September 7 th 3:00p.m.**

_  
  


These days Miles would struggle not to keep his smile. It seemed that his frown would only creep up on him in sleep, for the only sorrow he had kept in the past year was because of the lack of it. The beautiful summer day was only halfway through and the wind blew a gentle breeze, as if to say to him that all was well.  
His father was kind enough to insist that his grandson, his new pride and joy, stay under their roof. Miles didn’t want to intrude at first, but their conversation grew tiresome.

_  
  


_“Of course, he will!” Steely Phil said exuberantly._  
_“Dad, I know you have your hands full already, with the boarding house and Mom and the bills getting higher and higher and everything else… But I can handle it. How hard is it to find an apartment in this city anyway?”_  
_“Oh, horse patootie,” his Dad said, “there hasn’t been an affordable apartment in this city for generations! Good luck trying kiddo.”_  
_In a change of pace, Phillip Shortman let out a heavy sigh. Miles had never seen it since he had first told his father he would be leaving for a country he had never heard of thousands of miles away._  
_“Please stay. It would be a comfort to all of us if you were home. I want you home. It’s been too long, Miles.”_  
_They agreed that they could live in the spare room next to the landlord’s suite. They also agreed to give Arnold Miles’ old room when he is old enough. That made his already wide smile grow larger._  
  


_  
  


In the sunny summer daylight, the stroller that carried his little Arnold was gliding next to him as Stella pushed it forward. Arnold was chewing on the brim of his new blue hat. The sound of his suckling gave away his position to Miles, and they all halted in their efforts to walk to the center of the park for Miles to stoop down and place the hat where it should be, on his head. Arnold giggled and played with Miles’ hand. Miles grinned back.  
Later, when they appeared at the playground portion of the park he was astonished to find that many of the other parents of the city had the same idea. He believed all were about the same age as Arnold, give or take a few taller ones in the sandbox. What a joy it would be to know that they would grow up with him too. That could be a good excuse to write some more tonight. His smile grew wider still.  
Stella wanted to park the stroller, and Miles agreed to stop at the biggest tree in the park to sit in the shade. A few moments of bliss pass. Each time an interesting new event in the park would show itself, Miles would try to predict all that was happening in the children’s minds. What new ideas and strengths would these children bring to the world and how could it be a better place because of them?  
Wishful thinking aside, home felt more and more like a beautiful dream. A place that could only exist if he would not pinch himself, or if he got hit in the head with a stray frisbee. And that has happened. He laughed to himself, then looked to his lovely Stella, their eyes met, and they shared a smile, then their gaze simultaneously panned down towards their son. Who wasn’t there.  
Miles’ smile was gone. They bolted towards anything that Arnold could be near. The bench, the sandbox, anywhere they could look that would hold their baby boy. The time in San Lorenzo and all the scares his baby put him through had flashed before his eyes vividly enough it brought a cold sweat to his brow and froze him in place. He heard a cry (or was it laughter), turned his head, saw a flash of pink and green, and turned counterclockwise and looked on.  
There you are…

* * *

A lot of changes can happen in ten years, and for one of these men, a lot of changes can happen in only two months. The two months he could remember before the disease overtook him. Before he left his only son to fight said disease from infecting the hidden Green Eyes.

_  
  


For two children however, their changes would only just begin. The winds of change are gentle, but only for the time being, and their true meeting, would be as soft and gentle as the rain. But their first meeting went something like this:

All was still.

The afternoon sunlight was at its zenith when Helga Geraldine Pataki first laid her eyes on her future beloved, and she gave out a joyful cry pointing at the funny stranger.  
Does Robert Pataki hear her? _Of course, he doesn’t._

The sunlight shared its time with Arnold Phillip Shortman and lit his hair like yellow flame. The sound of his gentle laughter was permeating the air, as if to respond.  
Miles Shortman hears the girl; does he follow her hand? _Of course, he does._

__  
  
_

Although each man is close, Miles only catches a glimpse of the man standing behind the little girl on the swing before finding his little boy, safe and sound on a slide. Or as safe as a one year old could be…

* * *

**San Lorenzo, Central America**  
**10 years later…**

_  
  


“Wait, so let me get this straight Gramps!” Big Bob says to the old man. “Up where? Green Eyed People? I’ve never heard a more convoluted crackpot story in my entire life. Don’t people already have green eyes in the world anyway? What makes them so special?”  
Phillip Shortman had a few hours to kill and decided to tell the story of his long-lost son and daughter in law, Miles and Stella, despite the pain in his voice. Both kids and adults in the party were growing scared and impatient as Arnold, Helga, and Gerald had been gone for almost a whole day. Big Bob, who ruffled Phil’s feathers after his story and gave it such a harsh treatment, had behaved as badly as any kid, ignorant, raving, and mad that the main source of food was destroyed by an explosion that he himself had created.  
“Well that’s not very nice.” said Eugene, whose allergies had made him less of a human and more like a toy ball.  
“I don’t care bubble boy. Listen gramps, can’t we just go up that mountain already? We’ve been waiting for a whole day without hardly any food, my daughter is out there doing who knows what in the middle of a stinking jungle and the only source of entertainment that I have is that one girl’s hair situation.” Big Bob retorted.  
“Hey! I can’t help my hair anymore than you can help your unibrow!” Rhonda said. She paused to toy with her bald spot on her frizzy head, clearly distraught.  
“But he’s right Rhonda! I’m starving.” Harold whined.  
“Predictable you would only care about food.” said Sid.  
That did it. All the kids were then arguing and insulting each other. Big Bob noticed the throw pillow of a schoolteacher had tried to sound out a “listening ears” but it didn’t work. Voices from everywhere would agree with Bob about leaving and he took this as a signal to act and lead this rabble of preteens to find the missing kids and get the heck out of here. His darker instincts rising to appease the rabble, he grabbed a loose sword on the ground and ran towards the gate in front of the rowdy crowd.  
“Kids listen up! I’ll lead you through it. I can find my way through anywhere, and since I am the only adult here who makes any sense, I am gonna look for those lost kids no matter what. C’mon kids, let’s go!”  
The voices had joined in a cry into the night in a hearty and spirited “YEAH!” following him step by step to the gate that would lead them towards the trees into the unknown jungle  
Pheobe Heyerdahl, in distress of the entire situation before her, ran up to the front of the line as fast as her legs could carry her and would speak to the angry mob.  
“Wait! You can’t go!”  
“And why not?”  
“Well, we don’t have any form of communication on our persons that could lead us through the jungle. All of our phones were on the boat before it was destroyed and the only one we did have left we broke to contact you. Arnold also took the only map that he had with him. It is unwise to do this with so little Mr. Pataki. ”  
“Hey hey hey hey hey. Phoebe who is the adult here?”  
“You, but-“  
“But nothing! we’re not just going to stand here, starving and-“  
“Wait, who’s that coming!” Olga cried.  
There was the rustling of bushes, and the rest of the crowd stood in silence. During this Phil and Gertrude came to the front of the group to see what would come out. Big Bob held his stance with his sword, peering into the darkness.  
First out of the darkness of the brush was a tall brown-haired man, who was unfamiliar to Bob and to the rest of the kids. Confusion was the first emotion that anyone felt, but some had believed to have seen him before; the man who captured them and left them alone in the jungle, but this man had darker skin and hair. This person was a man Bob had never seen before and to his left Phil and Gertrude were coming closer and closer with tears being clear in their eyes.  
The man pulled back the brush and revealed Gerald. Phoebe called out his name, ran and hugged him, relieved, and gave him a few kisses on his cheek. Their union was soon forgotten to the rest of the group when the next two had appeared from the trees.  
His daughter, Helga G. Pataki, was holding the hand of Arnold what’s-his-name. Their demeanor clearly different from when Bob had sent her on the plane to this god-forsaken place. Apparently the entire class of students felt the same way. Rhonda and the blonde bug girl had their mouths open in complete shock. Sid, Stinky, and Harold’s eyes were as wide as saucers, as were a lot of the rest of the class. Bob saw two of them with expressions that were bordering on happy as if to say with their eyes that they knew that it would happen someday. The teacher’s was of genuine happiness, and the boy who was wheezing uncontrollably had a twinge of sadness.  
This silence went on for a while. Helga noticed and quickly let go of his hand. The boy seemed disappointed, but Bob took this thought for granted as the man holding the trees led out another man and a woman.  
_Man,_ Bob thought _what is this forest? A clown car?  
_ When the man and woman were revealed, Bob noticed the green eye pendants hanging from both their necks, a clear aspect of the story Phil was telling before his uprising began.  
_Miles and Stella. In the flesh.  
_ Arnold stared forward toward his classmates who was whispering to themselves, speculating if that was really the people from Grandpa Phil’s stories. Arnold was the first to break the silence after seeing all his family here in the jungle. He gave a nod to Helga and she smiled back as if to say, _go on._ Arnold ran to his grandparents.  
“Grandma, Grandpa! How did you get here?”  
“A little piggie told me.” said Gertie with tears in her eyes, gesturing towards Abner who was gaining steam to Miles and Stella and squealing all the way home.  
“Abner. Hey buddy.” Miles spoke softly and relaxed. In fact, Bob had never seen a more relaxed man in all his life. No wrinkles, no creases in his forehead, just a single grey streak that had also adorned his wife’s head as well to single out any form of age. It was impressive.  
When the pig stopped squealing at Miles and Stella’s feet, they came forward. Arnold let go of his grandparents and stepped toward his mother and father. Bob could tell it was them, Stella’s head was the unmistakable shape of a football.  
Phoebe, Gerald, Helga, and the brown-haired man came closer to the crowd that was surrounding Miles and Stella.  
“Arnold, what happened to La Sombra, and who is this man?” Phoebe said.  
“That’s Eduardo, the real Eduardo. La Sombra is gone. Long gone.” Arnold replied.  
“Yeah, he got hit by a poison dart and fell of a cliff. Then he came back and tried to kill us with it. It was cool. Scary, but cool.” Gerald added. Phoebe looked at him, terrified.  
“Arnold,” Stella said. “aren’t you going to introduce us to your friends?” She was even more calm and relaxed than her husband if that had been more possible.  
“Ok, Mom. Everybody, this is Miles and Stella Shortman. My parents.”  
Phil and Gertie came forward and all was still.  
“Hey, Dad.”  
Phil says, “Hey kiddo.” Tears began to flow. “What happened?”  
Stella replies. “Sleeping sickness. 10 years’ worth.”  
Miles starts again with, “I missed you.”  
Gertrude finally gets out “Missed you too.”  
All four of them hugged and cried and crouched to the cold ground. The children and the rest of the group gathered around them cheering their heads off. Big Bob was left astonished by the display that happened so quickly before him. He threw another look at Helga, who had returned to Arnold from behind. The kid was crying, his family reunited after ten long years, and his daughter gave him a hug behind his back. He was confused, and for one of the many moments in his life questioned if he knew anything about her, or what was going through her head…

* * *

**Eduardo’s private plane,**  
**courteously provided by Habitat For Humanity**  
**3 days later.**

Events previous Miles, wide eyed and awake sitting face forward in the aisle seat of a private plane next to his wife, his son, and his new girlfriend, went something like this:

_  
  


_Miles asked Eduardo the first day he was awake if they had a plane._  
_“Of course, I do, but what’s the rush?” They laughed._  
_The class that Arnold had come with had booked a round trip ticket back to Hillwood Municipal Airport, but come to find out, had enough room on the plane for the class and not the passengers that had come to the jungle by themselves._  
_“It’s only right I do this for you, old friend. I guess we’ll have some catching up to do while we wait.”_  
_“Well, what do I have to catch up on? I just woke up.”_

_Boy, did he._  
_Ten Years._  
_My God…_

_But first, on the way back to La Sombra’s camp, he caught up somewhat with Arnold on what happened in the jungle, but he felt it was not enough. Other than Eduardo and his beloved Stella, Miles was surrounded by strangers. Arnold was grown, and his three friends? It was if he was dropped into a movie, with no exposition, no course of action left, no more purpose, and completely clueless. It was nearly existential, the feeling inside him. Every few minutes on the journey back he held on to Stella, the only thing keeping him to the ground, everything else it seemed was a dream. A long, black, dream._  
_Next, Miles, Stella, and his parents stayed to help clean Eduardo’s apartment. There was no other room in the hotel for them all, and they still had three days left until their plane had left for home. La Sombra must have been very thorough, giving them a false sense of security lined up, probably ready to cancel the plane later when he finally had his hands on the Corazon, now forever lost with him over a cliff…_  
_La Sombra. Dead? After all this time and heartbreak? How Miles would have loved to have been awake for that…_  
_Miles was fully aware he had recognized none of the children, nor the adults who were shocked and bewildered by the very appearance of him. The parents of the girl who had held his son’s hand in the jungle were hardly there during the day, being with their oldest daughter and not caring what their youngest, Helga, was doing at all._

_

_Their loss,_ he thought on the plane. On that last day in San Lorenzo, Miles would know why…

_  
  


_Lastly, the day before they all left for home, Arnold, Helga, his friend Gerald, and another one of their friends, Phoebe, had accompanied them on exploring the sights of San Lorenzo. The teacher, Mr. Simmons, had pardoned them since both sets of Arnold’s guardians and Helga’s parents were present. Miles shook Simmons’ hand loosely, and they were on their way. Helga’s father: however, was too occupied to oblige, but the woman, Miriam Helga said, gave her permissive wave and sent her to his son with open arms._  
_San Lorenzo had changed drastically in ten years, almost too much for him to stomach. Moving billboards, new streetlights, and anything and everything that was electronic had changed. No payphones, tiny remote-controlled, “drones” Phoebe had called them, on the beaches, mobile phones in the hand of every person that were flat rectangles, and no huge car phones he had the most experience with. Nothing. It was almost pointless showing Arnold any of the old buildings, because most of them were new. Not even the hospital, where he had been told Arnold would come into the world, for it no longer stood. Upon learning this, Stella squeezed his hand, and they drove forward, even in the haze of their dark dream._  
_Darkness. Would it be like this forever?_  
_He looked longingly at his son and rubbed his thumb up and down the front of his wife’s hand, feeling more and more present as he walked down the street with his mom and dad and Arnold’s three friends._  
_The great thing about being around children was knowing how different they seemed to be. He liked all of them because of it. Phoebe was smart and articulated, Gerald was calm and cool, and Helga was snarky, intelligent, and the most independently minded little girl he had ever known. Arnold seemed like the opposite of Helga. Helga was strong willed in herself and what she could do, Arnold was more open and less aggressive. Her pessimism vs. his optimism. Yin and Yang. Sun and Moon. Only a few short days had went by and he saw the closeness Arnold and Helga had shared along the journey and felt proud. A ladies man, huh? A boy after his own heart._  
_After walking in the noon sunlight on the palm tree infested sidewalk, they had become very hungry and were looking for someplace to eat._  
_“How about here Mr. Shortman?” Phoebe said._  
_“Oh, you can call me Miles, this looks perfect.”_  
_In those hours of eating and chatting with his family, and these new children who were apparently going to be a big part of his life, Miles was constantly astonished with the stories Arnold had told about them. Phoebe being an academic decathlon champion, Arnold meeting Dino Spumoni on 4 separate occasions, winning the fourth grade Spelling Bee, reuniting Mr. Hyunh’s daughter with him, and meeting Agatha Caufield, his dad getting his diploma from grade school, and Helga Pataki, he would learn, helped Arnold save Mighty Pete, helped Arnold save his old neighborhood from being decimated by an evil corporation, and the final nail in the coffin; was completely and utterly responsible and instrumental to Miles’ and Stella’s survival from the dreaded sleeping sickness all in the name of love…_

_  
  


As he sat in his seat of the plane, he realized that this knowledge was the thing that had broken him. It wasn’t because he hated her, he didn’t, he was so grateful and beyond relieved, but he was even more scared of the unknown because of her. Not his son, but _Helga_ , a girl that he had never known previous, was the very thing Arnold needed to save them.  
When he was falling prey to the sickness, falling asleep to the ideas that had enraptured him, the murals on the walls of the hidden city that were painted of his son’s likeness, he was filled with the kind of hope that made him believe all of the stories told to him by the Green Eyes with no question. It was never the golden heart of the Green Eyes, but the golden trinket of a ten-year-old girl. When the prophecies were all wrong, all different, that hope had disappeared like the fine mist of morning.  
How unexpected. What kind of love like that existed, and at such a young age? Helping total strangers from death, only for love, or at least extreme like…? He was comforted to know that kind of love did exist, he felt it with Stella, but for someone so young? Impossible.  
And how on Earth could he ever pay her back?

“Hey, Stella?”  
“Yes?”  
“I can’t sleep.”  
She laughed softly. “Me either.”  
“I can’t believe I’m jealous of children. I mean look at them. I can’t even close my eyes, yet.”  
“They’re so cute, aren’t they?”  
Helga was snoring, and had drool on her chin, and his son’s mouth was open, with heavy breaths. They had a big day. All that were in the plane were his parents, Helga’s family, himself, and Stella. Eduardo was in the cockpit. Miles volunteered to pilot the morning shift but might have to pass if he felt this uneasy with his thoughts. Those thoughts included the fact that he was grateful all those kids wouldn’t be just staring at him for the rest of the trip.  
“Yeah.” Miles had an idea. “Hey, honey, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a few.”  
“Okay, sweetie.” He kissed her and proceeded down the aisle.  
Miles was irritated. That’s it. He just needed a few minutes alone by himself. Get freshened up. Splash a gallon of water against his face. That’ll work.  
Walking down the aisle, to the left he saw the older sister, _Olga_ Helga had said, then Miriam, and Mom and Dad on the right sound asleep with Abner, but none of “Bob”. He had to wait. Great.  
He had heard hardly anything of the patriarch of the Pataki family, Helga in all the 3 days he had known her, had said close to nothing but the name. Miles leaned against the wall adjacent to the door. He heard a couple groans, a flush, a stream of gentle water. Curiosity on Miles’ part made him think about this man. He was, in the time that he had known him, only been mentioned in anecdotes the day they were amongst the streets of the small San Lorenzo town.

_  
  


_One from his father:_  
_“Conniving little weasel...”_  
_One from Gerald:_  
_“He’s such a blowhard…”_  
_Then one, sadly, from Helga herself:_  
_“He wouldn’t notice I’m gone anyway. Let’s go.”_  
_Arnold would hold onto her shoulder with sympathy._

_  
  


After the stream of water was done running, Bob Pataki came through the door. He was in a green polo shirt with a crown on the right chest pocket. He had more grey hair in his head than Miles could have in his age and what his body could do after his ten-year long sleep. For a second Miles was standing there, trying to think of something to say. Bob already spoke for him.  
“Well, what the heck are you starin’ at? If you want to go then go, ya knucklehead.”  
Miles nodded and went into the bathroom as Bob turned and walked back to his seat near the window across the aisle to his oldest daughter with her head against her mother’s shoulder.  
When Miles closed the door, he stepped in front of the mirror above the sink and peered at himself. He took a good, hard look. Deep set eyes with bags, a skunk streak staining his hair, and dry skin. He turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on his face, and it he felt a little better. Then his reflection stared back at him, giving Miles a memory from the day before:

_  
  


_Miles was blown away from the shock of the story of winning the trip to save him and his wife, the epic of the river boat chase, the death of La Sombra and the means in which the aromatic machine roared to life and saved an entire civilization from an eternal slumber; a gold-plated locked which held the photo of his son._  
_As the story was performed to him by Arnold, the last part made Helga blush and look nervous. She was red either from flattery or anger. Miles could not tell which afflicted her, and it obviously overwhelmed her. She rose from her seat._  
_“Yeah, heh heh, that’s great isn’t it? I’m… uh… gonna go to the bathroom! Yeah! I’ll be right back.” She flashed a smile at Arnold be for she bolted for the back._  
_Miles had the same idea because his stomach started rumbling as well. “I’m going too. I’ll be back in a minute.”_  
_Miles found the men’s room, did his business, and strode to the sink to wash his hands, but not after the noise that would come from the grate above the mirror._  
_“Oh, Arnold!” the voice cried, as if to call out to the sacred gods of old._  
Helga? That’s new. _  
_ _“What kind of heaven is this, to be basked in the angelic glow of your smile replying to mine. I have felt your hand in mine and the peace that comes when it passes over my palm! Oh! Arnold, my love, I shall never again wash the stains of your fingerprints from my own. Never again will I forget the day you returned my love, my everything. I have the world in my pocket, the universe in every glance of your whirlpool eyes to my sky blue, the atmosphere in every breath you give to me in speaking such glamorous words to my ear and my ear alone! Every kiss is a blister that festers, every hope I have an infinite loop, and every lovely word you speak to me comes from the stars above! But alas, do I deserve you? Do I deserve this? All this time, was this the last predetermined step for me to gain love in return this and only this? This trinket which I hold in my palm? No matter. I love you; I love you; I love you, and I hope that is enough my heart’s darling, my only angel in the world, my one star amongst the dark void of my life, my soul’s one desire; my Arnold.”_  
_He heard a door slam, and the sound of soft footfalls coming and going down the hall. Miles started washing his hands with dumfounded expression on his tired face…_

_  
  


In a flash it came back to him as his eyes collided with their mirror image. _A wonderful girl like her full of love and life in her heart, ignored? It just doesn’t make any sense._ He thought. _Must be that Bob’s fault. Who else? Poetry like that could be published and be an inspiration to all the minds who hear it. God.  
_He shook his head, wiped his face dry with a paper towel, and exited from the bathroom. He walked down the aisle and glanced at Big Bob Pataki, alone, watching the sky. There was one empty seat left. Miles hesitated but carried himself forward, wanting to be near his Stella.  
“Hey, Stel-”  
Miles stopped in his tracks when he saw Stella finally asleep and holding onto her boy. Abner had come to find a position against her feet, and even closer to Arnold. Miles held onto that sight as much as he could and gave Stella a kiss on the head and returned to the aisle. Miles had another idea.  
He took a few steps and stood at the side of Bob Pataki. The intimidating man noticed his presence and turned towards him.  
“What do you want?” Bob said.  
“I…uh….well…I…”  
“Well. Spit it out.”  
Miles gestured his hand towards the seat next to Bob. “This seat taken?”  
“No.”  
“May I? I need to stay awake. I’m driving in about an hour or two and can’t sleep. I just need someone to talk to, I guess.  
Bob huffed. “Well, I don’t see why not. It’s pretty boring on this god forsaken plane.”  
Miles sat down and got comfortable. A moment passed. Miles then stuck out his hand for Bob to shake. “I’m Miles Shortman. You?”  
“Big Bob Pataki, The Beeper King.” Bob reached out his hand as well and gave the firmest handshake Miles ever had in his life.  
“Beepers, huh? Nice.” Miles then thought of the very different San Lorenzo he explored the day before. “Do people still use those?”  
Bob was not amused, but he caved a little.  
“As a matter of fact, they do. Some of them. Doctors still come in now and then for extras and some hipsters came by two weeks ago trying to buy them in bulk and-“  
“Hipsters?” Miles asked.  
“Oh right. You probably don’t know yet.”  
Miles connected the dots from there and said, “So, you do know what happened to me then?”  
“As much as your dad and the girl told me. All those kids too.”  
“The girl,” Miles said. “Helga. Your daughter you mean?”  
“Yeah, her. I don’t know what’s going on with her. It’s like she is another person entirely. I’ve never seen her like this. I guess that’s what a “boyfriend” does to her.”  
Bob’s air quotes offended Miles a little bit. Miles tried to find the right insult to say, but he failed. He stared forward. “I guess we will be seeing a lot of each other for a while.”  
“I guess.” Bob said. He looked out the window and got a little irritated. “It’s all so sudden. I mean, one day she says she hates the boy and is angry at the world, then the next time I see her she’s holding on to him like a frickin’ security blanket.”  
Miles doesn’t understand this. He thinks she hated him? _Why?  
_ “She hated him?”  
“Did she ever! She’s threatened him, called him names… She even called him uh…. “Football Head”… that’s it. She’s done that so many times, heh, I’ve lost count.” He laughed at this account.  
“She’s _always_ been like that? You’re sure?” Miles tried to lead him on some more. “I’ve never heard anything that extreme in the last three days.”  
“Yes. She’s always been tough as nails and never took anything from anyone. Like me. Now she’s like this? She’s always been weird, but I don’t think I know her anymore. Ugh. This never would have happened to Olga. Now Olga, she is always the brightest in the room, she knows how to be around boys. I don’t think it will last.”  
“You don’t? I don’t know. I think your Helga is pretty special too. Arnold does too.” Miles said.  
“Pfft. Maybe, but what do I know?”  
Miles didn’t know what kind of conversation he could continue to have with Bob. He seemed set in his ways. Holding on too tight. Miles looked toward the front of the plane as Bob looked out of the window taking in the roaring wind around the plane. Miles thought maybe he needed to be as shell-shocked as he was towards this girl who loved his son. He prepared for the slaughter of his psyche.  
“You know,” Miles said, “in some way, maybe we’ll never know everything about our kids. I’ve really known who Arnold has become for three days, I could probably probe him all day and never truly be done, but maybe we’re alike in that way, wanting to know what’s going on with our children. You know, I forgot something. I wanted to thank you.”  
This piqued Bob’s interest and he raised his bushy eyebrows as he turned to look at him.  
“Thank me? Yeah? Heh, what for?  
“Well, I believe I owe your daughter my life.”  
There it was. His grin left him. The slaughter. The cold sweat formed over his brow. Bob’s ego imploded in front of Miles. Big Bob Pataki was now the one staring into the void, Miles could tell.  
“She did? How?”  
“Well…”  
Miles recounted the story almost verbatim to what Arnold had performed to the rest of the table that day at the restaurant. He doesn’t respond with questions; he only listens and understands. Miles is told that Bob knows how he had gotten in the position of being under the sleeping sickness from Miles’ father’s stories. He is on the edge of his seat as he is told of the fight with La Sombra, the locket, as he is told of everything. When Miles’ story is done, Bob is dumbfounded. Miles hopes he knows more of his wonderful daughter. He leaves out Helga’s soliloquy in the bathroom, for if she intended for him or anyone else to know her innermost thoughts like that, he had a feeling she would have said it.  
“So, that’s it.” Miles finished. “Now I’m here with my family, all because of her. So, I thank you.”  
“No. I think she deserves that.” Bob said. “You know, you’re right. I don’t think I know much about her in the first place. I mean, she is in therapy for crying out loud.”  
“Really?”  
“Uh-Huh, she socked a guy once during a visit by the shrink.” Bob said. “Don’t know what he did to deserve it, didn’t really care, but apparently he had been taking it for years.”  
“Oh, man. Was it someone Arnold knew?”  
“It was…uh… that one Brainy kid, you know the one that was constantly wheezing?”  
“Oh yeah. I saw him.”  
“Yeah, but she’s always been into fighting. You know, one time Helga wanted to go to a wrestling match, and I got the flyer off her bed and I read the wrong side and we went to this stupid show, _Rats!._ I swear it was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen! She thought so too, and when we were in the car, we would just talk and laugh about how stupid it was. It was one of the only times I really connected with her about something. Anything really.”  
Miles could tell Big Bob wanted to say something else but was caught in the void again. Miles had one last idea. _For Helga and Arnold.  
_ “Tell me more?” Miles asked. “Maybe from the beginning?”  
“Well, when she was born…”  
  


* * *

There was a cry in the night. The girl next to him woke to it, hyper-aware of his presence, as well as his mother.

A dark familiar dream of the boy’s had returned, but this time he was not alone, for his love was finally there.

Gentle whispers of a song from his weary mother, as soft as the wind, lulled the adolescent back to sleep with his love following suit. The girl’s head leaned on his shoulder and she felt peace. True peace at last.

_

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,  
You make me happy when skies are grey,  
You’ll never know dear, how much I love you,  
_Please_ , don’t take my sunshine away…”

-

The two men behind them would talk into the night. Talking of being blessed with angels that were within the fuselage of the bird in the sky.  
And that all was still.


End file.
